TITLE: Where the Heart Is  1/?
AUTHOR: Monique 
SUMMARY: Willow's been trying a new spell
DISCLAIMER: Joss is God, we are but humble servants
RATING: PG 
PAIRING: Willow/Giles
FEEDBACK: Please? I need to know what you think. It inspires me!
DISTRIBUTION: Really?… no problem, just ask 
TIMELINE: Season 4 +
DEDICATION: Andrea's "Welcome Home, Willow" story (hoping for another
part 
soon, hint hint) inspired this little piece of fiction... it just got
me to 
thinking… 


Giles lazily opened his eyes and squinted at the alarm clock. 8am. He
hadn't 
slept so late in ages. He was rapidly becoming accustomed to his role
as a 
man of leisure, perhaps too much so. Best enjoy it while you can, he
thought.

He closed his eyes and put the extra pillow over his head to block out
the 
morning sun. He'd been having a delightful dream and was hoping to
reclaim it 
before it slipped completely away.

He tried to remember what it had been about, but the hazy images merely

drifted across the edge of his consciousness. He chased it, but the
harder he 
grasped at it, the more illusive it became. Finally, it was gone
altogether. 
Leaving him with that slightly empty feeling of knowing happiness lay
just 
beyond your grasp. 

He groaned in defeat and tossed the pillow aside. Time to get up and
face the 
day, such as it was.

He rolled out of bed and stretched. His left shoulder had been somewhat

troublesome since that encounter with the Brotherhood of Phetam last
week. He 
winced in pain as he tried to work out the kinks and banish the memory
of his 
rather anti-climatic rescue attempt. Once again, he'd arrived in time
to be 
thrown across the room and watch Buffy save the day. It shouldn't
bother him, 
he knew, she was the Slayer, but it had… He tried not to delve into
the 
reasons. Better not to think too much about why he'd wanted to be the
one to 
rescue her. Willow was saved and that was the only thing that mattered.

Still, he couldn't shake the niggling feeling that he should have saved
that 
particular day. All he'd really wanted was for Willow to be safe and
yet, he 
felt cheated. Ridiculous, really. 

Sighing at his own folly, he found his glasses, donned his robe and
headed 
downstairs.

He put the kettle on for morning tea and noticed a small sweater draped
over 
the back of his sofa. He smiled to himself and went to retrieve it.

Willow must have left it here the other night. Another night of
research and 
gentle conversation. He gathered the sweater and unconsciously breathed
in 
the lingering scent of her perfume. He closed his eyes and could see
her 
standing before him, eyes shining, face so open and sweet. He smiled
fondly 
at the image and carefully folded the sweater, placing it on the
counter.

The gentle smile and pleasant image of Willow were still with him as he

absently went to his front stoop to get the morning paper. Once he
opened the 
door, instinct took over and he was instantly wary. He scanned the area
and 
finding nothing amiss gathered the paper. As he started to skim the 
headlines, he shut the door with his foot.

Wham! 

He jumped as a loud thud came from the door. Something had hit it and
hit it 
hard. He quickly peered through the peephole and saw Willow standing
outside 
holding her head. He threw open the door and cried out in alarm.
"Willow!"

"Ow."

He took her by the arm and pulled her inside. "Are you alright? What 
happened?" 

She shook her head and winced as the movement caused her head to ache.

Still holding her arm, he led Willow to the sofa and helped her sit. He

gently pulled her hand away from her forehead and saw the beginnings of
large 
knot developing. His brow creased in worry and sympathy. "You've a
nasty 
lump. I'll get some ice."

She started to nod, but thought better of it. Still was good.

Giles quickly returned with an icepack. He gingerly pressed it to her
head 
and she gasped in pain. "I'm sorry," he said.

She took the wrap from his hand and held it in place.

"What happened? You… you weren't attacked were you?" he asked his
voice tight 
with concern.

She didn't meet his eyes. "No. No, nothing like that."

He let out a long breath and nodded. "Thank God." He gathered himself. 
"Good." He nodded again. 

His heartbeat was slowing to an almost normal rate. He'd seen so much
pain in 
his life, too much, but somehow seeing Willow suffer always sent an
acute 
fear through him. He flexed his hands in an effort to keep from
touching her, 
but finally allowed himself to lay a tender hand on her hers. With his
other 
hand he moved the icepack away to closer examine her wound. He gently
probed 
the area.

She groaned.

"Should I take you to hospital? Do you think you need a doctor?" He
pushed a 
stray lock of hair away from her face.

"No," she said. "It's not so bad." Her face was regaining some of its
color 
as the initial shock of the injury started to wear off.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly as he held her hand more tightly.

She managed a small nod and finally looked him in the eye.  She wished
she 
hadn't. His face was so kind, his expression worried affection. She
hated to 
disappoint him and knew when she told him her story, he would be.




Part 2